"I don't see that Lazarus. History seems to show-".

"Use your head, Ira. I don't mean that a business politician won't steal; stealing is his business. But all politicians are nonproductive. The only commodity any politician has to offer is jawbone. His personal integrity-meaning, if he gives his word, can you rely on it? A successful business politician knows this and guards his reputation for sticking by his commitments-because he wants to stay in business-go on stealing, that is-not only this week but next year and years after that. So if he's smart enough to be successful at this very exacting trade, he can have the morals of a snapping turtle, but he performs in such a way as not to jeopardize the only thing he has to sell, his reputation for keeping promises.

"But a reform politician has no such lodestone. His devotion is to the welfare of all the people-an abstraction of very high order and therefore capable of endless definitions. If indeed it can be defined in meaningful terms. In consequence your utterly sincere and incorruptible reform politician is capable of breaking his word three times before breakfast- not from personal dishonesty, as he sincerely regrets the necessity and will tell you so-but from unswerving devotion to his ideal.

"All it takes to get him to break his word is for someone to get his ear and convince him that it is necessary for the greater good of all the peepul. He'll geek.

"After he gets hardened to this, he's capable of cheating at solitaire. Fortunately he rarely stays in office long-except during the decay and fall of a culture."

I said, "I must take your word for it, Lazarus. Since I have spent most of my life on Secundus, I know little of politics other than theoretically. You set it up that way."

The Senior fixed me with a stare of cold scorn. "I did no such thing."

"But-"

"Oh, hush. You are a politician yourself-a 'business' politician, I hope-but that stunt of transporting your dissidents gives me doubts. Minerva! 'Notebook,' dear. My intention in deeding Secundus to the Foundation was to set up a cheap and simple government-a constitutional tyranny. One in which the government was forbidden to do most things and the dear people, bless their black flabby little hearts, were given no voice at all.

"I didn't have much hope for it. Man is a political animal, Ira. You can, no more keep him from politicking than you can keep him from copulating-and probably shouldn't try. But I was young then, and hopeful. I hoped to keep politicking in the private sphere, keep it out of government. I thought the setup might last a century or so; I'm amazed that it has lasted as long as it has. Not good. This planet is overripe for revolution-and if Minerva doesn't find me something better to do, I might show up under another name, with my hair dyed and my nose bobbed, and start one. So be warned, Ira."

I shrugged. "You forget I'm migrating."

"Ah, yes. Though the prospect, of suppressing a, revolution might change your mind. Or perhaps you would like to be my chief of staff-then displace me with a coup d'etat after the shooting is over and send me to the guillotine. That would be something new-I've never tended to lose my head over politics. Doesn't leave much for an encore, does it? 'A tisket, a tasket, a head in a basket-it cannot reply to questions you ask it.' Final curtain, no bows.

"But revolutions can be fun. Did I tell you how I worked my way through college? Operating a Gatling gun for five dollars a day and loot. Never got higher than corporal because each time I had enough money for another semester, I deserted-and, being a mercenary, I was never tempted to become a dead hero. But adventure and change of scene are appealing to a young man...and I was very young.* (* The Gatling gun (Richard J. Gatling, 1818-1903) was obsolete by the time Lazarus Long was born. This allegation is barely possible if one stipulates that an obsolete might be used in some small, out-of-the-way insurrection. J.F.45th)

"But dirt, and missing meals, and the wheet of bullets past your ears stop being glamorous as you grow up; the next time I was in the military-not entirely my idea-I chose Navy instead. Wet Navy, although I was space Navy at later times and under other names.

"I've sold almost everything-except slaves-and worked as a mind-reader in a traveling show, and was a king once- a much overrated profession, the hours are too long-and designed women's styles under a phony French name and accent and with my hair long. Almost the only time I've worn long hair, Ira; not only does long hair need a lot of timewasting care, it gives your opponent something to grab in close combat and can obscure your view at a critical moment-either one can be fatal. But I don't favor a billiard-ball cut because a thick mat of hair-not so long as to fall over your eyes-can save you a nasty scalp wound."

Lazarus appeared to stop to think. "Ira, I don't see how I can list all the things I've done to support myself and my wives and kids, even if I could remember them. The longest I ever stuck to one job was about half a century-very special circumstances-and the shortest was from after breakfast to just before lunch-again, special circumstance. But no matter where or what, there are makers, takers, and fakers. I prefer the first category but I haven't spurned the other two. Whenever I was a family man-usually, that is-I haven't let compunctions stop me from keeping food on the table. I won't steal another child's food to feed my own-but there is always some way not too sickeningly fake to garner valuta if a man isn't too picky-which I never was whenever I had family obligations.

"You can sell things which have no intrinsic value, such as stories or songs-I've worked every branch of the entertainment profession...including a time in the capital of Fatima when I squatted in the marketplace with a brass bowl in front of me, telling a story longer than this one, and waiting at cliff-hangers for the clink of a coin.

"I was reduced to that because my ship had been confiscated and foreigners weren't permitted to work without a permit-a high squeeze on the theory that jobs should be reserved for local citizens, there being a depression. Telling stories without a fee wasn't classed as work, nor was it begging-which required a license-and cops let me alone as long as I volunteered the customary daily gift to the Police Benevolent Fund.

"It was either get by with some such dodge or be reduced to stealing-difficult in a culture in which one is not sophisticated in the local customs. Still, I would have risked it save that I had a wife and three small children~. That hobbled me, Ira; a family man should not take risks that a bachelor finds acceptable.

"So I sat there till my tailbone wore through the cobblestones, recounting everything from Grimm's fairy tales to, Shakespeare's plays, and not letting my wife spend money on anything but food until we saved enough to buy that work permit plus the customary cumshaw. Then I clobbered 'em, Ira."

"How, Lazarus?"

"Slowly but thoroughly. Those months in the marketplace had given me a degree of sophistication in the 'Who's-Whom' of that society and what its sacred cows were. Then I stayed on for years-no choice. But first I was baptised into the local religion, gaining a more acceptable name in the process, and memorized the Qur'an. Not quite the same Qur'an I had known some centuries earlier, but it was worth the effort.

"I'll skip over how I got into the Tinkers' Guild and got my first job repairing television receivers-had my pay docked to cover my contribution to the guild, that is, with a private arrangement to the Grand Master Tinker, not too expensive. This society was retarded in technology; its customs didn't encourage progress, and they had slipped behind what they had fetched from Earth about five centuries earlier. That made me a wizard, Ira, and could have got me hanged bad I not been careful to be a faithful-and openhanded-son of the church. So once I got into position for it, I peddled fresh electronics and stale astrology-using knowledge they didn't have for one and a free imagination for the other.